


Sun Can't Stop Us Now

by safe_haven



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Heat Cramps, Vomiting, heat exhaustion, heat intolerant
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-05
Updated: 2019-05-18
Packaged: 2020-02-26 17:17:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,555
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18721486
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/safe_haven/pseuds/safe_haven
Summary: Peter is extremely sensitive to heat. He's been this way since he was a kid; there's no explanation for it, no cure. That is, until a billionaire playboy genius philanthropist comes into his life.or5 times Peter suffers from heat sensitivity and 1 time Tony Stark is there to cool him off.





	1. Taking Your Breath | Stealing Your Mind

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this at 1 a.m pleanse, 
> 
> All of these are based off things that have happened in my life due to the fact that I am extremely sensitive to heat.

1. 

 

The first time Peter ever threw up from getting overheated, he was 9 years old. He had been laying out in the grass all day, soaking in the sun. He hadn’t felt ill while he was out there; in fact, he felt amazing. He loved being outside during the summer, feeling almost uncomfortably warm. 

So, it came as a surprise to him when an unfamiliar feeling rolled through his bones. He was sitting on the arm of his couch now, staring at the back of May. She was cooking his favorite summertime lunch for him, and then he would probably drift off into a nap.

The feeling wasn’t necessarily a bad one. It was just strange. Foreign. It took Peter a few minutes of feeling it before he realized that he probably needed to find someplace to puke.

He barely made it to the bathroom before he was heaving up what was left of his breakfast. He collapsed onto the cool tile, his body giving out on him. Nothing  _ hurt,  _ really. He didn’t even feel sick. He just felt tired and hot.

“Peter?”

The worry in May’s voice was enough to send him lurching again, barely having the energy to move his heavy head before vomiting.

“Oh, God. Peter, honey, are you okay?”

Peter dry heaved, shaking his head as minutely as he could in answer. Shudders racked through him, and for a second, May thought he was having a seizure. Then, Peter reached out blindly, hand flailing in the air before coming in contact with the front of May’s shirt. He grasped the cotton in his fist, eyes closed and face pale and numb.

She felt his forehead, pushing back damp curls. He was sweating, but his skin was freezing. May cursed under her breath and rushed out of the room.

She was certified in First Aid, thank you very much.

When May came back in carrying cold water bottles and a wet cloth, Peter had moved to a curled up position on the floor. May winced in sympathy, kneeling next to him. She put two steadying fingers on his neck, closing her eyes and checking for his pulse.

It was there. Weak, and fluttering, but there. 

Peter’s eyes blinked open once, then twice. “Where am I?” he muttered. A limp hand clawed fruitlessly at the floor, and he whimpered. 

“Shh, you’re okay,” May assured. “You just got a little overheated.” She pressed the cool towel to the back of his neck and uncapped one water bottle. "I’m going to need you to sit up, baby, okay?” she said. Her voice was smooth and soothing. “You’re going to have to drink some water. It’ll help you feel better.”

With a little help, Peter managed to force himself into an upright position. His head lolled back, his eyes squeezing shut with pain.

Slowly but surely, half a water bottle slowly passed between his lips. May poured the other on the top of his head, his shoulders, and his chest. He was starting to grow more responsive to her touch and drinking the water faster after a few minutes had gone by.

May sighed in relief when the color came back to his skin, and his breathing became normal again. He still seemed disoriented, but she supposed you could expect that from any 9 year old who just found themselves on the brink of death for no apparent reason.

Peter spent the rest of the day curled on the couch, eating slowly and drinking  _ plenty  _ of water.

2.

 

The second time his sensitivity to heat proved to be a huge problem, he was 15 years old, and the stakes were much higher. 

So, technically, it wasn’t his fault. Heat exhaustion isn’t exactly a thing that’s  _ supposed  _ to feel familiar, so how was he to know that he was two seconds away from collapsing?

The summer heat was making his suit feel particularly sticky. It was uncomfortably warm out today, the kind of sun that produced the worst sunburns. He was swinging aimlessly from building to building, chattering softly away to Karen.

“Peter, you seem to be experiencing signs of heat intolerance,” Karen said suddenly, voice more robotic than usual. It completely disrupted their flow of conversation, much to Peter’s distress.

“I’m fine, Karen. I’ll cool down in a little bit.”  

Suddenly, during a free fall, a sharp pain shot up his leg. He barely had time to pull himself back up on another web through the sudden wave of pain that crashed over him.

“Shit,” he mumbled. “Karen, what was that?”

“Heat cramps are a result of lack of enough salt and potassium in the body. Proper first aid is the consumption of electrolytes, rest, and gentle massage of the affected area.”

Peter sighed, clambering onto a rooftop. He looked out into the busy city.

“Hey, Karen? How serious are heat cramps?”

“While heat cramps are not life-threatening, if not treated right away, they can lead to heat exhaustion or heat stroke.”

Peter hummed, scratching at his neck through the suit.

“And how life-threatening are heat strokes?”

“Heatstrokes have a mortality rate of 80%.” Karen neglected to tell him that this was only if proper care did not come immediately. Peter rubbed painfully at the remaining ache in his leg, sighing.

“Fine. I guess I’ll head home now, cool off.”  

“Good decision, Peter.”

Heat exhaustion is a funny thing. You never quite recognize the signs until you’re passed out. So it was no surprise when Peter jumped off the building, and his vision immediately darkened. He reached out blindly, desperately, grasping for a hold that was not there.

Instantly, Peter felt a steady force, much like his own webs, pulling him up. He vaguely thought about Karen. Could she have noticed he was freefalling and be lifting him up on her own?

Once he felt the burning stone of a rooftop through his suit, he realized that he had made it to safety. However, he couldn’t lift his head. He wanted to. He desperately wanted to get up and go somewhere cooler, but he couldn’t budge.

He groaned a little, gasping a short breath into uncooperative lungs. He couldn’t find the air to ask Karen what was happening to him.

The world fell into milky darkness, swimming and shifting and tumbling before dragging his fatigued body into oblivion.

 

When Peter woke up, he was neck deep in freezing cold water. His eyes fluttered once. He didn’t have the strength to try for another.

“You finally up, kid?”

The familiar voice would have shocked him awake in any other situation. This time, however, his sluggish brain was slow to catch up to his stimuli. 

“Where am I?” he slurred, voice heavy with tiredness and confusion. 

He felt a finger tapping on his cheek. “Open your eyes and maybe I’ll tell you,” the steady voice chided, though he sounded slightly concerned.

Peter finally managed to push his eyelids open and squinted in the sudden bright light. A face he distantly recognized was sitting next to the bathtub he was in, still in full suit, minus the mask.

“Who are you?” Peter mumbled.

Judging by the surprised look on the man’s face, Peter supposed it was a question he should have known the answer to.

“Damn it, kid. You really got yourself good this time.” Tony leaned forward, allowing himself the small indulgence of running a light hand through Peter’s curls. “You’re lucky I was there.”

Peter leaned greedily into the touch, a warm feeling filling his stomach at the sudden and unexpected affection. "It's Tony," the man murmured. "It's just me, Pete. Do you really not recognize me?" Peter's eyebrows scrunched up, and he wrinkled his nose. Tony moved his hand away from Peter's hair. 

"Don't," Peter mumbled. He reached out of the water, trailing waterfalls behind him, and pawed at Tony's hand, which was now resting on the side of the tub. Tony couldn't help but smile a little. 

"You want me to play with your hair?" Tony chuckled. He was sure that if Peter hadn't been in a semi-conscious state of confusion, he would never be acting like this. Still, he obliged, untangling the sweaty curls on the top of Peter's head. "Are you feeling cooler now?" 

Once Peter nodded, Tony sighed, moving to get a towel. 

"Let's get you out of that water then." 

Peter rolled his head to the other side, eyes squeezing shut. 

"Tony," he said quietly, voice still slurring. "Tony." 

Tony's heart squeezed so tightly it hurt. "Yeah. I'm here, Peter. It's me. You coming back to me?" 

Peter slowly clambered out of the bathtub and into the waiting towel. Tony wrapped him up, hugging his shivering form to his. "You'll be okay, kid." 

"I promise." 


	2. It's Blinding, Outshining

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 3 and 4, in which the familiar sensation of being warm affects Peter in far more ways than physically.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNING for mentions of anxiety attack, breakdowns, and very very very slight self harm.

3.

The third time wasn’t heat intolerance. It would more fit in the category of  _ caused by heat intolerance. _

Peter whimpered, scrambling fingers tugging desperately at the hem of his shirt. Once he got his tee and his jeans off, he stumbled out of his bedroom. A strange feeling was rolling through him once again.

When he got to the bathroom, he immediately dropped to the floor. He didn’t feel sick or dizzy or weak, but his brain was going haywire with the thought of how  _ hot  _ it was. And he was sure he had been hotter before, but this time felt especially suffocating.

He dug his nails into his skin, pulling roughly. It seemed as though he was trying to claw his skin off.

_ It’s too hot,  _ he thought, tears slipping down his face.  _ It’s too hot, I’m suffocating, I’m dying, I can’t breathe, I can’t breathe, I can’t- _

Peter sobbed, body lurching on the bathroom floor. He just wanted to be rid of the heat. He knew what came after. The confusion, the blurriness, the haze. The cotton feeling in his head.

He crawled into the bathtub, turning on the water as cold as it would go. It would have to do for now. He would just have to cool down.  Peter sobbed, loud, heavy cries into the quickly filling tub. He dunked his head underwater, allowing himself to drift into the familiar icy area that he usually chased. His lungs felt as though they were about to burst, his heart skipping beats with the shock of sudden temperature change. But he stayed with his head under.

He was cold.

Cold.

 

4.

 

After Tony found Peter lying on a rooftop unresponsive, he went to great lengths to make sure that Peter did not experience an overabundance of heat at once. After a quick  talk with May, he found out that Peter had been experiencing this all his life. He had thrown up on summer days, had woken up crying when his room got too hot at night, constantly had a raised body temperature. 

“We were watching a movie together one time, and he had his head on my shoulder,” May had said. “I made him sit on the other end of the couch because his skin was so hot, it was burning me up. It was the middle of winter.”

So, from then on, Tony was careful about letting Peter go into any hot places. During the summer, he cut down the time Peter could patrol and made him come back to the Avengers compound after each trip to see if he was experiencing any signs of heat exhaustion.

It was 102 degrees outside when Peter started patrol on August 12. Obviously not good for him and his heat intolerant ass. But he trucked on anyway, ignoring the all too familiar heat cramps that splintered up his calves.

"Peter, you seem to be experiencing signs of heat exhaustion," Karen supplied. "I have been programmed to inform Tony Stark if this issue arises again."

Peter cursed under his breath, processing the way he stumbled slightly on the roof of the building he was on. His vision was starting to become crowded with black dots, and his body felt heavy again. His chest labored with another hot inhale, the stickiness in the air filling his lungs.

"Karen," he panted out. His chest squeezed tightly, the suffocating feeling forcing itself into his throat. "Karen, contact Mr. Stark. Please, please, I can't...I can't breathe." Peter lowered himself shakily to the roof. He cradled his head in his hands.

Almost immediately, the ringing stopped. Peter heard a loud, "Hey, kid."

He flinched. The last thing he wanted when he was on the brink of an anxiety attack was Tony's voice in his ear, just slightly  _ off.  _ Just slightly  _ too loud. Too deep. Too unstructured. _

_ Too hot. _

"Mr. Stark, it's really hot," Peter mumbled. "I can't breathe."  

It took a few seconds for his response to come, but when it did, it was calm and comforting. “Alright, Pete. I’ll be there in just a few minutes. Hold on for me, okay? Keep your eyes open, if you can. We’re gonna get you cooled off.”

Peter immediately hung up. He couldn’t handle the noise anymore.

“Peter, your vitals indicate that you are experiencing a severe anxiety attack. My suggestion for first aid is to get off the roof and to a place where you feel calm. Would you like me to contact 911?”

“No, Karen,” Peter choked out. “I’m okay.”

Just as he was saying this, Tony managed to hit the roof without his suit. Though Peter would never admit it, Tony knew that the suit made him anxious when it came specifically to his help. He knew everything was overwhelming for Peter all the time.

“Hey, kid.” 

Peter shook his head roughly, pressing his hands over his ears. It was tough to block out any sound with his mask on, but still, he tried.

“Karen?” Tony asked uncertainly. This was not a symptom of heat exhaustion. At least, not one that he had ever seen before. He knelt next to Peter, putting a steadying hand on his shoulder.

“Peter seems to be experiencing a severe anxiety attack,” Karen supplied. “He is not suffering from heat exhaustion yet, but his temperature is rising. I suggest getting him cooled down and calm immediately.”

Tony sighed, patting Peter’s shoulder as gently as he could. “Alright, Parker. We’re going to have to get you to a safer place. You’re gonna be okay, hear me?” Tony weighed the pros and cons of taking his mask off and decided to keep it on.

“I’m going to pick you up now, okay?” Tony didn’t wait for a response; he didn’t expect one anyway. He slid one arm under Peter’s knee, carefully pulling him into a bridal style carry.

“Can you hold on to me?” Tony asked quietly, careful of Peter’s super hearing. The teenager in his arms was quickly becoming more and more unresponsive, but his arms fell limply around Tony’s chest.

Stark managed to get into the suit without incident, shifting Peter so he was being held by metal arms now.  

When they finally made it back to the tower, Tony ripped Peter’s mask off of his head, desperate to provide Peter with some sense of open air. 

Tony set Peter upright on the couch, tapping his cheekbone in an attempt to keep him semi-conscious as he went to get him cold water. “Goddammit, Pete,” he mumbled. “We’ve got to do something about this.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you enjoyed reading this! I also hope you enjoy reading about all the stupid things my body does to me when i'm not looking


	3. Fever Dreams

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Peter is, naturally, a dumbass.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry, this came so late. My depression said sicko mode this week but I am doing BETTER today so have this.

5.

 

When Peter woke up thrashing at 3 a.m, desperately trying to shove the suffocating covers off of his body, Tony was ready. Peter had worn long pants and long sleeves, something he  _ knew better  _ than to do. 

But still, there Tony was, tugging the covers onto the floor and making sure it was as cool as he could stand it in Peter’s room.

“You’re an idiot,” Tony proudly announced to Peter. To be fair, the kid didn’t look too good. His face was red and covered in sweat. His brown curls were plastered to his forehead.  

Peter reached out with a weak hand, pawing at Tony's thigh when he sat next to him. He ignored the man's words.  

"Yeah, I know, Peter. I know." Tony sighed, heaving a sweaty and scared Peter up so he was draped across his chest.

Tony pressed a careful hand on his forehead, pushing the curls back. Peter was shivering slightly, face twisted in pain and discomfort. He felt bad for the kid; he remembered the times he had been overheated, and he couldn't imagine having those moments almost constantly.

"We're gonna find a way to cool you down if it kills the both of us."

The joke fell flat when all Peter did was push up his sleeves and turn his face away from Tony’s field of view.

A few minutes passed in which the only sound was Peter trying to catch his breath and the soft whirring of the fan above. Peter whimpered softly, turning so he could press his nose against Tony’s neck. Tony was always cold to the touch; it was one of the many reasons Peter enjoyed being around him so much.

“Getting any cooler?” Tony asked, rubbing at the sweat still forming at his kid’s hairline. Peter nodded lightly, fists closing around handfuls of Tony's shirt.

"Okay. That's good."

Tony's voice became a quiet murmur against Peter's head, his eyes slipping closed against the warm pressure draped across his chest.

God, he was going to kill this kid one day.

 

+1

Having responsibility over a dumbass kid who has extreme sensitivity to heat in the middle of summer was only  _ one  _ of Tony Stark’s biggest concerns at the time.

FRIDAY was programmed to inform him if the temperature ever reached over 100 degrees. While Peter knew way better than to go patrolling when it was that hot, he often forgot that going out with friends counted as  _ being in the heat. _

“Good morning, Peter,” FRIDAY greeted warmly. “It is currently 102.4 degrees outside. I am programmed to inform you if the temperatures are dangerous for your condition. I suggest staying inside today. Would you like me to turn the cooling on?”

Peter smiled sleepily up at the ceiling, to where he assumed FRIDAY was. No one in the compound ever explained anything to him.

“No, that’s okay, Ms. FRIDAY ma’am. I’m feeling okay right now. Thank you, though! Have a nice day.”

Peter pushed himself out of his bed, stumbling to his door. It slid open without him touching it, as it normally did. Though he was the one who invented most groundbreaking technology, it always took his breath away.

“Is anyone up yet, FRIDAY?” Peter asked, making his way through the futuristic walls and to the kitchen.

“Mr. Stark is up. He is in the kitchen.” There was a pause. Before Peter could ask his next question, she answered it for him. “He has not slept in 26 hours. It is 7:32 a.m.”

Peter sighed, a small, sad frown pulling at the corners of his mouth. “Okay, thank you.” He stepped into the kitchen, where, as promised, Tony Stark was sitting at the counter. A cup of coffee sat in front of him, as well as a few loose papers.

“Good morning, Mr. Stark,” Peter said. Tony spun around, eyes wide and red-rimmed. Peter flinched, taking a step back and staring at the ground. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to disturb you.”

Tony sighed, scrubbing his face with a rough hand. “Peter, don’t apologize. Christ, kid.” He looked up towards the ceiling. “FRIDAY, what’s the temp?”

FRIDAY relayed the temperature and how it related to Peter’s condition to Tony. A few moments passed in silence as Tony drank the rest of his coffee. “Hear that, Spider-baby?” he said. Just as Peter was about to protest the nickname, Tony started talking again.

“No going outside today. Those temps would fry your brain.” Tony pushed Peter’s head affectionately, smiling at him. “So what say you and me go and work in the lab for an hour or two?”

Peter lit up at the prospect of working with his mentor.

Tony tapped at his wrist a few times, lowering the temperature in the lab without Peter knowing about it. The kid had a guilt complex to rival his own.

“Then let’s go. Break some eggs. Get dressed in some regular clothes and we’ll invent a new element.”

Peter tripped over himself in his excitement, stumbling down the hall. Once Tony was sure he was gone, he got out two bottles of cold water and filled cups with ice. He needed to make sure his kid was okay.

He pushed aside the papers on the counter and threw away the empty cup of coffee. When he thought about Peter, he felt an overwhelming need to protect him. Not like he did  with everyone else, not like survivor’s guilt, not like  _ prove yourself to be better than Sokovia. _

He felt, truly, as if Peter were his son. He felt like he did when he looked at Pepper. _I cannot live without you here._ As much as he hated to admit it, he loved Peter. Loved him.

Just as soon as he let himself think this, a soft smile on his face, Peter walked back into the room. He was wearing a long sleeve cotton shirt and a huge smile.

Tony’s eyes widened in anger.

“What the fuck, you  _ idiot-”  _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes, every single title in the fic was from the Greatest Show. Also, I hope you enjoyed! Have an amazing day.

**Author's Note:**

> phew !! i hope you enjoyed the story.


End file.
